Heartbeat
by Mrs.GlennQuinn16
Summary: To Sherlock Homes, Molly Hooper always mattered. Now her life hangs in the balance as an old enemy returns with a vengeance. Eventual Sherlolly fluff. Trigger warning for torture.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again readers. This has been sitting in my laptop for months and I have been dying to publish it and possibly make it into a full story. I know I am way behind on Defying Logic and Matters of the Heart but I plan to update both of those very soon before I have to go back to classes and schoolwork. Please let me know if this is definitely worth making into a full story. Enjoy!**

Chapter One

Molly POV

 _I have to get to Baker Street. I must…get to Sherlock_. My thoughts motivated me forward, through the terrible pain in my shoulder. I pull my black coat closer to hide the crimson stains. My eyes flicks back and forth as I continue to make my way down the sidewalk. I don't want to draw attention but it's hard to hide the ragged gasps that escape my lips. Soon my lungs will give up even trying to take in a breath.

 _I don't want to die_. I try to drive that thought out. I will not let fear get in my way. I have seen my fair share of the aftermath of murder. I just never thought I could ever become a victim. Through my hazy vision I can see the red awning. It's like a beacon of hope. I'm almost there I just have to hold on a little longer. I finally make it to the black door, the gold letters spelling out 221B Baker Street.

My legs threaten to buckle but I will myself to keep myself upright and my posture normal. A woman just passing on the sidewalk was already giving me a curious stare. Through the door I can hear the wail of a violin. The sound is so soothing. To my immense relief the knob turns underneath my hand. It takes me a minute to open it all the way, the blood on my hands was making it slippery. I open the door carefully. The violin continues its mournful melody. I close the door as softly as I can. My knees threaten to give out on me again. My lungs burn and ache. I try to keep my ragged breaths and gasps on low volume. I definitely don't need Mrs. Hudson coming in on me and seeing me like this. I just need to get upstairs. I focused on the shrill wail as I climb the steps, gripping the wall as hard as I can for support. I make it to the first landing, the door just a flight ahead. I can't stay upright any longer. The carpet is rough against my hands as I collapse. The violin stops.

"Sherlock" I whisper. I slump in the corner. Black spots in my vision threaten to swallow me. I hear the door to his flat open. I vaguely feel myself sliding sideways only to feel strong hands grab me before I can touch the floor. My eyes will not stay open.

"Molly! Molly can you hear me?" The voice is familiar, sounding so far away. Buts it's not that deep baritone that I know and love. It's John Watson's voice.

"What is it John?" The voice I need to hear says. I try to pry my eyes open. To see his face…one last time.

"It's Molly she's badly hurt." John replied, his voice filled with alarm.

"Bring her in here quickly!" Sherlock said. I could almost swear he sounded concerned or even scared. I'm being lifted off the ground. I try once again to get my eyes open. All I can see is a blur of colors before they close again. My body feels heavy as I'm lowered onto a soft couch. I don't think I can stay conscious for much longer. I swallow and my lips part to say the one word Sherlock needs to know. Once he did he would know what to do but no words came. I move my lips again, not a single syllable escapes. Just at strangled breath.

"What? What are you trying to say?" John asks. He's so close I can feel his breath stir my hair.

"Out of my way John." Sherlock says and then he is beside me. I can smell the familiar scent of tobacco and cologne. His hand is so warm when he takes mine.

"Molly it's Sherlock. Who did this to you? Tell me" His voice is urgent. I take in a breath that's not nearly enough and I use every last bit of my strength. My eyes open and I blink. He is a blur for a moment, all I can see is pale skin and black hair. Then he comes into focus. The shock of dark curls, the high cheekbones, the lips that I used to study so much wanting nothing more than to kiss them. Then I'm drowning in those bright blue eyes. They study me expectantly as he kneels beside me. I feel the corners of my mouth tug into a small smile. It's not worth trying to talk again.

"Molly please." I want him to say my name again and again. But I'm slipping away. I want to just to make the pain stop.

"No! Stay with me Molly stay with me…" That's the last thing I hear before everything goes hazy and I'm floating away.

Sherlock POV

My heart twisted painfully in my chest as her eyes closed and her hand went limp in my grasp. I check to see if she was still breathing and was relieved to find a weak pulse. The unfamiliar feelings warring inside my chest is disorienting.

"Let me check her wounds." I hear John say and I move aside. He peels away the folds of her coat and I take in a sharp breath. Her rainbow jumper has a blood stain spreading across it from her shoulder. John curses under his breath as he disappears into the bathroom and quickly comes back with one of our towels. He balls it up and presses it on the wound.

"Sherlock." John says but I don't hear him. I feel light headed and cold. I can't feel anymore. I don't even feel a jab as I gaze at Molly's face that is turning paler by the minute. The blood has almost soaked through the cloth. The stab wounds are too deep.

"Where's that bloody ambulance it should have been here by now." John growls and checks her pulse. "She doesn't have much longer she's losing too much blood. What kind of monster would do such a thing to her?" I don't answer and John looks at me for the first time since Molly showed up. I can tell that his gaze is questioning. But I don't look at him. I keep my eyes set on Molly's face. I hear sirens and seconds after the pounding of footsteps.

"What's happened?" I hear Lestrade ask loudly as him and the paramedics enter the room.

"Please step aside sir." The medic says but I don't move.

"Sherlock they need to get to Molly." John says. I feel rooted to the spot. With a growl John grabs my arm and forcibly pulls me away from her. I glance at Lestrade who is standing very still, shock clearly on his face.

"How?"

His words all of a sudden anger me "I don't have an answer for that yet but if you would stop flapping your lips I might be able to think!" I snarl at him. Lestrade, ever used to my moods just sighs.

"Sherlock in I were just relaxing in the sitting room. Sherlock was playing the violin and I was reading the paper. I thought I heard someone coming up the stairs but I couldn't tell for sure over the noise. I made Sherlock stop for a moment and that's when I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. When I opened the door I found Molly collapsed on the landing." I hear John explain to Galvin. Or is it Garrett? Nevermind inconsequential information. I sink into my mind palace and I immediately get an idea.

"We should look for her things once we get to Barts there's no time to lose." I say and the medics start to gently take Molly down the stairs on a gurney. She still hasn't regained consciousness but I see some breath fogging up the oxygen mask.

"Good idea." John agrees "I'll come with you." I think I hear John say but I'm already following the medics down the stairs where a very alarmed Mrs. Hudson watches the commotion. John briefly stops to reassure her.

"I'll take a cab meet you there." John calls as I climb into the ambulance. I take a hold of Molly's hand. It is too cold and I squeeze it. I shouldn't wait for her to respond but I do anyway. But it never comes. Instead the monitor flat lines and my heart nearly stops with hers. The two medics on board immediately push my hand aside and start to cut off her jumper. I can't watch as they charge up defibrillators and press them onto her chest. I can hear her body convulse but I keep my hands buried in my face. I can't believe this is happening. That I could very well lose her right here and now. I vowed to never have sentiment towards another being. But for some reason I could not keep it that way.

 _I should have told her how I felt about her_ I thought to myself. _But instead I acted like a total git_.

But then I hear a single beep on the monitor. I look up to see another beep sound on the machine.

"We have a pulse." Says one of the medics. I feel a rush of relief. She can still make it through this. I put my head in my hands again and through my fingers I can see a piece of paper lying on the metal floor. Curious I pick it up and the medics take no notice. I feel come over me when I should be feeling excitement. I know this is a clue but I am afraid to see what it has to say. With shaking hands I unfold the paper and read the words written out in red ink with elegant script:

 _Did you miss me?- M_

 **What did you think? Please review and I would appreciate some feedback on my other stories as well. Hope to post again soon. Until next time ~ 16**


	2. Chapter 2

**I have to thank you guys so much for all the very positive reviews. It has really pushed me forward to make this into a full story. I am sorry once again for all those who have read my other stories and anxiously awaiting another update I really hope to do that soon. Anyway enjoy chapter two and as always please review!**

Chapter Two

Sherlock POV

"Can you please stop doing that?!" John growls at me for the third time. I ignore him as I continue to pace back and forth in front of him. He just sighs in frustration and lays back in the plastic chair, his foot tapping against the floor anxiously. I have no recollection of how long I have been pacing here. The nurses refused to let me through when we came flying in, Molly still unconscious on the stretcher. To think that Moriarty had something to do this was making my skin itch and my head reel. I tried to sink into my mind palace but everything was too chaotic to really focus. All I could see was Molly's face as she smiled at me. To think I could never see that again was unbearable. These past years she has been a loyal companion, helping me stage my suicide, getting me valuable information whenever I needed it for one of my cases. Even her usual chatter that used to get under my skin became comfortable background noise whenever I needed to concentrate. I feel a pang of guilt for not even listening to the words she was actually saying.

"I still can't believe this is bloody happening" I heard Lestrade growl as he came up to us, a freshly-brewed paper cup of coffee in hand.

"Same here." John agrees but I give no response, I just continue to pace. When the doctor finally appears John and Lestrade jump up and I practically pounce on him.

"How is she?" I ask.

"She's sustained a good amount of injuries. We have her under a medically induced coma while we take full assessment of the extent."

I felt my stomach drop. At the flat I was too distracted and shocked to actually take full intake of her injuries.

"Can I see her?" It took me a minute to realize I said "I" instead of "We" and that I just asked permission to see her. Bullocks I was becoming simple. I thought I saw John and Lestrade exchange a look from the corner of my eye.

"I'm sorry but only family members are allowed access." The doctor said this in a polite but emotionless voice. It made me bristle. I gave him a steely glare, deducing him in seconds.

"Is that so? Well I think your wife will have something to say about that."

He blinked in confusion. "Sorry?"

"I'm talking about the wife you have been cheating on for the past three, no four months." I said matter-of-factly and I heard John groan and mutter "Here we go."

I didn't give the doctor a chance to reply. "I think she would care to know that her beloved husband has been sleeping with the twenty-year-old intern when she thought you were working overtime." I took immense pleasure in seeing his face almost turn the color of his thinning white hair.

"So I believe it would be much trouble to see Molly now would it?" I finished, not being able to suppress a satisfied smile. God it still felt good to deduce people's darkest secrets and throwing them in their faces. After a long moment the doctor cleared his throat. "I don't think it will be much trouble to let you three in. She is in room 312."

"Wonderful" I said and stalked past him, Lestrade and John following. John will probably give me a reprimand for that conversation later. _To hell with him_ I thought and in no time I was standing right outside her room. I turned to the two men behind me.

"Do you mind if I go in for a moment alone?" I didn't wait for their answer, just turned on my heel and entered the room. To my surprise I came to a halt a few feet from her bed. I was not prepared to see Molly looking so small and frail in the hospital bed, hooked up to beeping machines and a ventilator helping her breathe. After a minute of just watching her chest rise and fall evenly I forced myself to move forward and sit down in the chair right beside her bed. She did not stir as I took her hand. It seemed so small and frail in mine. I used this moment to take in her injuries: deep stab wound to the shoulder right below the collarbone, the collarbone itself slightly fractured, a broken rib and maybe punctured lung. A purple bruise mottled her right cheek and I would guess several more bruises along the body. She really put up a struggle but she was overpowered.

The noise of the machines became too much so I felt my mouth open and words start to spill out.

"I suppose I owe you an apology. But I highly doubt that will suffice by any measure." I cleared my throat for a moment for it was tightening a little too uncomfortably.

"I should have told you how much you meant to me. Instead I exploited you and pushed you away. A brilliant woman like you does not deserve being involved with a horrible person such as me. I take immense pride of not being a creature of sentiment. But now, I believe that was my downfall." I felt more and more sentences flowing out of me and it was as if a dam broke. Everything I had kept to myself for all this time came spilling out. When I finished I had to clear my throat several times and blink rapidly. I forced to myself to really look at her and saw no change. No sign that she had heard. A horrible shame since I don't know if I will be able to tell all of this again without actually truly breaking down. The guilt was getting harder to bear and I clutched her hand tighter with both hands, my elbows resting on the edge of the bed. I heard someone shift in the doorway and I straightened.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked, not turning to see who it was.

"Not long enough. It was actually quite moving to hear you get all emotional." John replied, slightly teasing.

"Yeah I wanted to get it on tape." Lestrade agreed.

Despite their teasing I couldn't help but smile a little at their humor. I let go of her hand and stood up.

"I need to take a moment. I will return soon." I said, straightening the collar of my jacket before striding out of the room.

 **So I'm hoping to publish chapter three sometime this week since I already started it and this is a pretty short chapter but I make no promises. Please let me know what you guys think. Until next time ~ 16.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for everyone who has stuck around for this story I know I haven't been exactly updating on . But I hope to keep this going on both fanfiction and archive of our own. Please leave a review it always makes my day and motivates me to glue my butt to the chair and finish another chapter.**

Chapter Three

Molly POV

 _12 hours before..._

 _The soiled latex gloves came off my hand with a satisfying snap. I threw them away in the waste bin and turned back to the motionless body in front of me._

 _"Alright Mrs. Nelson I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning." I said and covered the corpse up with the white sheet. My body gave a little bit of a shudder, my tiredness making me less able to desensitize me from the gruesome aspects of my profession. Before I could get creeped out I strode out of the morgue, shutting the light off and locking the door. The hallway was as lightly lit and eerie as ever late at night. I'm sure everyone has gone home by now on this floor, only the nurses and doctors remaining to take care of the patients in the upper floors._

 _I stopped at the door to the locker room and pulled my keys out of my lab coat. I yawned and rubbed my eyes; opening the door to put my lab coat away and gather my things. I pulled on my dark blue pea coat, grabbed my bag, and yawned again. I was so out of it that I failed to hear anyone come behind me when I had my back turned to relock the door. I felt something hard press against my back and a large hand clamp over my mouth._

 _"Scream and I put a hole in you." A deep voice hissed in my ear. My heart started to hammer in my rib cage and I let out a small whimper. My bag fell to the floor with a thud._

 _"I said don't make a sound!" He shouted, bending down to grab my bag. He kept a painful grip on my mouth that forced me to bend with him. When we were upright again I nodded vigorously, letting him know I wouldn't before he could shoot me._

 _"That's a good girl." He released his hand but kept the gun where it was. "Now start marching to the door at the end of the hallway." My legs failed to move, rooting me to the spot and feeling flimsy as jello. The barrel of the gun pressed hard into my spine and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out._

 _"Move!" He shoved me forward and I stumbled but managed to stay upright._

 _What's happening? What does this guy want from me?_

 _My mind was reeling as I did what he said. The door got closer and closer and the fear seeped into me farther and farther. I could be very well being led to my death, brutally raped and murdered. Another murder victim statistic on a spreadsheet._

 _Get yourself together Hooper! You're not dead yet. It's all up to you to figure out a way to escape. Sherlock is not here to save you._

 _I wished that wasn't true. He would have already had this guy disarmed and knocked out on the floor. I really should have went to those self-defense classes with Mum. The door was upon us and I pushed it open, my arms as useless as my legs they were shaking so bad. I silently cursed myself for being so weak. A small parking lot awaited us, boxed in by buildings. Only a narrow alleyway big enough to fit a car was the way out. A cab sat idling on the curb._

 _I'm doomed._

 _The door opened and I saw two burly men awaiting me inside. With another jab by the gun I stepped in, taking seat next to one of them. The man that captured me slammed the door shut behind me._

 _"Hello Molly it's so good for you to join me." A familiar voice said in a sickly sweet tone from the passenger seat._

 _"Moriarty you-ah!" My words were cut off when one of the burly men grabbed my arms roughly and wrenched them behind my back._

 _"I see you have more fire to you than I remember. How wonderful." He said while his goon efficiently tied my wrists together with rope. My heart continued to bang painfully against my ribcage and I really hoped I would keel over and die before Moriarty could do it for me. No doubt it will be slow and painful demise._

 _"What do you want from me?" I said, my voice cracking and betraying my fear._

 _"All will be revealed in good time my lovely. First I think we should have some fun." A cloth reeking of chloroform was pressed to my face, covering my mouth and nose. As I struggled I managed to elbow the goon in the gut. All it did was make him grunt briefly then growl with anger. He pulled the cloth away to punch me across the face. I fell over sideways, my head hitting the side of the door. My cheek throbbed mercilessly and black spots flooded my vision as I gasped in pain. The cloth was pressed to my face once again and all I could hear was Moriarty giggling before the darkness expanded and swallowed me whole._

 _10 hours before..._

 _I did not stay unconscious for long enough. Right when I came to I wished I did not wake up at all. The room was windowless and dimly lit. My jumper and coat was gone with just my thin white shirt to protect my torso. My arms were chained to a hook on the ceiling, stretching painfully upward while my feet barely touched the cement floor. My cheek still stung and throbbed horribly and I let out a pained breath through the cloth gag tied around my mouth. Moriarty's men stood guarding the door. They stared at me with blank gazes and I just frowned back, pulling on the chains. One of them rapped twice on the door and it immediately opened. Moriarty's slim form strode in like he was the King of the world. His dark eyes glittered when he stepped into the dim light. His mouth was stretched wide in a feral smile._

 _"She has returned. Time for some fun!" He giggled again, spinning around in a circle. "Oh how Sherlock's heart will break at seeing how battered and broken your body is."_

 _I only could let out a squeak through the gag. My chest heaved as panic set in, my eyes blurring with tears. My reaction only egged him on in his insane rant._

 _"Since you so kindly asked earlier why I went through all the trouble to abduct you , here is the simple answer. You see Molly Hooper, Sherlock has taken to you quite a bit. He tried to hide it from me, oh he did but I haves eye all through this city much like that annoying brother of his. You being on the brink of death will drive him into a wonderful taste for vengeance and lead him right into my trap."_

 _Tears made tracks down my face and my chest hurt now not just from fear but from Moriarty's sick lies._

 _Sherlock has never seen me like that and never will. You're a liar! I wanted to scream at him. All those years I spent with him and he barely saw me. Sure his gaze met mine but it was like he was seeing through me. Just a woman he could use for his own gain, knowing full well I would do anything he asked._

 _As if he heard all those words Moriarty clucked his tongue and shook his head._

 _"You don't believe me do you? Well that makes things more interesting." Moriarty snapped his fingers and his men stood at attention and stepped forward._

 _"Go get my toys for me pretty please. I feel like we have done enough chatting here." They nodded and one slipped out the door quickly to do their master's bidding. Moriarty approached and I tried to recoil but only just hurt my arm muscles more._

 _"Oh I'm not going to do anything to you my little mouse. Nothing that will draw blood anyway I don't like to get these pretty hands dirty. But my boys will certainly take pleasure in soaking their hands with your blood." His hands wrapped around my jaw, making me yelp as his thumb pressed into where his goon struck me. He moved my head back and forth, studying me like I was an interesting specimen._

 _"I don't know what he sees in you. You are hardly pretty or brilliant enough for Sherly's taste. Unlike yours truly" I forced myself to look into his dark, bottomless and void of a soul. I could very well be looking into the eyes of Lucifer himself and I wouldn't be surprised._

 _"No matter he will be mine soon enough. I might even take John Watson too so I can have another pet to play with." He let go of my jaw as tears still continued to fall._

 _The thought of the kind doctor being trapped in Moriarty's hands made my stomach turn. But I was glad that they were both safe from him for now. The door opened and the man returned, wheeling a metal table in. Moriarty clapped his hands in glee when the tray stopped in from of him , revealing an array of knives and objects. Moriarty picked up a riding crop and my mind conjured up a memory of Sherlock's slim fingers grabbing one himself; thwacking it violently on a corpse over and over._

 _"Let's color that pale skin with more bruises shall we?" I squeezed my eyes shut and whimpered._

 _Please just let me die now, I pleaded to no one in particular as the crop came down hard on my stomach. I cried out as the horrid thing stun the skin above my belly button. The next blow took all breath from me that was already hard to draw in through the gag. He moved on to my stomach, my arms, my breasts, my cheek. No matter how hard I tried not to I screamed and screamed and gave the Moriarty the satisfaction he was causing me a lot of pain._

 _"Alright Alright I had my fun, its my boys turn and they don't play as nice." He put the riding crop back on the table. Everything stun and I could practically feel the bruises forming. Moriarty snapped his fingers and one of them snapped to attention and moved forward like some robot. But nothing was robotic about the pleased grin on the man's face, horribly scarred as it was. Moriarty gestured to the table and the man picked up a wicked looking knife, its edges ridged and looking like it could slice all the way to bone in just a swipe. I struggled uselessly, my arms not moving an inch. My feet kicked frantically into the air and in my panic I kicked him pretty hard where it counts and he folded like a piece of paper onto the floor. Despite the fear I couldn't help but feel some satisfaction at it least making one of these goons hurt. Moriarty's eyes flashed with anger._

 _"Do that again and I will make your death slower!" He screamed. It was more scary than his sickly sweet voices he liked to do and I recoiled._

 _The man picked himself off the ground with some growling and groaning. His anger matched Moriarty's and I swallowed hard. Well I really did it now. I let out my loudest scream as he approached, the knife ripping open my shirt, my white bra the only thing protecting me now. My chest heaved up and down and he pressed the knife to the soft flesh of my bruised stomach. The knife broke the skin and the pain was unimaginable. It set my skin on fire and made it feel like sharp needles were digging into my nerves. He was slow and meticulous in his work, making sure it hurt as much as possible. My throat was growing hoarse from screaming and I could feel my blood run rivulets down my navel and into my pants. He drew the knife away and I gasped and coughed. My own saliva was choking me and I was blind with the hot tears that wouldn't stop falling._

 _Please let me die._

 _Present time..._

Sherlock POV

I stride down the hallway, making my way to the morgue. Molly's lifeless form keeps playing in my head and I try to lock it away into my mind palace. My fear and anger will get me nowhere. Sentiment will have to take a back seat for now. I hit the elevator button harder than necessary and descended into the lower levels of St. Barts.

 _Please let there be a clue. Anything to help me find Jim Moriarty._

The door opens with a ping. I am grateful to see that no one was currently in the hallway. The doors to the locker room are just ahead. I open them and make it to her locker. I pull the code to the lock from my mind palace and get it open. There was nothing remarkable, her white lab coat hanging on its hook and her lab goggles on the top shelf. I reach into the pockets and find another crumpled piece of paper inside. I open it up to see the words.

 _Getting warmer -M_

I slam the locker shut, letting out a growl of frustration. Think damnit. I press my fingers to my temples, rubbing circles back and forth until something came up. When I did I felt stupid for not thinking of it when I opened the locker. Her bag! Excitement lights a fire inside me and I walk as fast I can to the double door that lead to the Morgue. The place is dark and chilly. I switch on the lights to see just one corpse lying on the row of steel tables. Without hesitation I rip the white sheet covering it to find a middle aged woman, A clean cut makes a V on her torso, efficiently stitched up. A tag is tied to her toe with another message for me.

 _Hot! Hot! You're on fire Sherlock! -M_

I whip my head up to see a figure at the door. In one swift motion it splashes kerosene onto the floor.

"No!" I shout and with a whoosh the room goes up in flames.

 **Sorry I can't resist a cliffhanger. Hope to post another chapter tomorrow but I make no promises. Until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so over the moon to keep getting notifications of you guys loving this story. It really makes me feel so good that I can write things that are worthwhile to read. Anyway, enjoy chapter 4!**

Chapter Four

Sherlock POV

The fire surrounds me, burning so hot and bright that I'm sweating through my Belstaff. I look frantically around as the fire alarm starts to blare above me. There's a lot of liquids around me in test tubes and whatnot but they are useless, filled with chemicals that will just feed the fire. I don't see a fire extinguisher either which would be my best bet. Water wouldn't even be of good use unless  
I want to burn faster. I cough, feeling the smoke make its way into my lungs. I'm losing my sight as the heat and smoke make my eyes sting and I try not to panic. I move as far away from it as possible, shielding my face as my lungs strained for oxygen. In just a few minutes I will lose consciousness completely. I cursed myself for not being more careful.

"Sherlock!" I hear someone scream just as black and white spots start to crowd my vision. I hear an odd sound and the heat is minimized in an instant as fire extinguisher sprays a white substance all over the floor. There is still some flames licking the ground but Lestrade is prepared, having already a towel ready to put on it. He drops it on the floor and both him and John stamp on it frantically until every last flame is out.

"Sherlock are you alright?" John rushes to me, coughing a little himself. I couldn't answer, leaning against the counter, coughing as my lungs tries to hack out the toxic substance.

"We need to get you some water and to a doctor." He grabs my arm to throw it over his shoulder but I pull away.

"No" I croak out "Need...to...find...Moriarty" I hack some more.

"That bastard can wait" John says in his I'm-a-doctor-so-I-know-best tone. Lestrade comes over to brace my other side.

"I'll send a call to Scotland Yard. They can get a start on the investigation."

 _Good idea because Anderson and Sally would be of so much help,_ I wanted to shoot back. But my wretched throat hurt too much for me to talk more. Fire fighters come down the hall in their gear, blowing past us to investigate. Once we get to the upper wings Lestrade and John hand me off to a nurse and I'm forced to lay down on a gurney while they put an oxygen mask over my mouth despite all my protests.

"You twat were you trying to get yourself killed?!" John says from beside me, Lestrade already walking away to make phone calls. I just glare at him, sucking in the oxygen in deep lungfuls. The nurse returns with a cup of iced water and I gulp it down gratefully, the cold liquid soothing my irritated throat. John just watches me and I turn to look at him and don't see anger or frustration in his gaze. Just defeat and sadness that startles me.

"I can't lose you again." He says. I want him to stop looking at me like a puppy dog that just got scolded.

"You won't." I manage to say, my voice still scratchy but coherent. This simple statement does not reassure him so I just lay back on the stretcher, staring up at the white washed ceiling.

 _8 hours before..._

Molly POV

 _I had never been a religious person, dedicating my beliefs to science. But now I prayed to every God or Goddess that I knew of to end my pain. Moriarty had left for now, leaving me to hang here and suffer like an animal ready for the slaughter. The two men stayed by the door, still as stone and impassive as ever. How they took so much pleasure in causing people pain I will never know. I let my head hang forward, wisps of my hair hanging around my face that had escaped from my pony tail. The gag was starting to cut into the corners of my mouth and I tried to adjust it with my tongue but it was so tied so tightly that it did nothing but make my tongue tired from the effort. Every part of me was tired and my nerves still screamed. My tears have long since dried up, hardening into salty tracks on my cheeks. The blood on my stomach also has dried and left a crusty residue on my body. I whimpered, tugging uselessly on the chains that were chafing my wrists. How can the universe be so cruel to let me suffer like this, to let anyone suffer like this? I remembered the faces of the men and women that came to rest on my table. One was a victim of a fatal shooting, another stabbed to death. One of the worst ones was a teenage girl, brutally gang raped, strangled, and stabbed several times. It looked like the strangling was what ultimately killed her but the killers still had fun carving up her body after her heart stopped beating. I had to step out of the room to throw up after completing that autopsy._

 _I heard the door open just as I started to doze, my body and mind shutting down despite the pain. I didn't look up, not wanting to have to look into Moriarty's eyes again. Nonetheless I had to as he grabbed my jaw to make me look up. Moriarty clucked his tongue and shook his head mournfully._

 _"You aren't looking so good my little mouse. Can't have you dying on me just yet." He snapped his fingers again and I just let out a little sob, knowing full well what would happen next._

 _"Your choice this time, my pets. Do what you will but make sure she's still breathing afterwards." They nodded and Moriarty stepped back to watch from the corner of the room._

 _The man with the scarred face came forward again, all too eager to play the part of the torturer again. His gaze roams the array of tools with interest. After a few more agonizing moments he grabs what looks like a crowbar. He tests its weight in his big beefy hands. I could tell he was stalling and it was working on making my mind scream and fear to poison every part of me. I struggled uselessly, screaming and gasping as he approached. I couldn't watch as he drew the crowbar back. I felt it hit my collarbone with a horrible white hot sensation and the audible crack as the bone broke. A loud, agonized scream ripped through the air and it took me a moment to realize that it was me who made that scream. I couldn't stay silent and it just fed Moriarty's sadistic pleasure as he giggled and clapped his hands. Someone must have granted me some mercy for the scarred man put the crowbar back in its place and stepped away. My whole right arm down to shoulder ached and stabbed me with little needles of sharp pain. I felt nauseous and I could feel all too well where the bone cracked and split._

 _"Alright boys I think we had our fun. Take her down from there I don't think she is going to go anywhere isn't that right my little mouse.?"_

 _I nodded gasping and struggling. The thought of being cut down sounded like a dream. The scarred man came forward and I couldn't stop myself from flinching as he got really close to me to untie my hands. Once my hands were untied I dropped to the floor, ignoring how it rattled my broken collarbone and made my bruised body throb. The gag was untied and I let out a big breath. The man stepped away and went back to his post._

 _"I will see you soon my little mouse." Moriarty said, satisfaction and pleasure evident in his voice as well as his expression before turning away and shutting the door behind him. I made myself start crawling away to the corner of the room, tears coming back with a vengeance to blur my vision and soak my cheeks. After what seemed like a century I made it to the corner where I curled up on my good side. As I laid there, my body and mind broken; I prayed and wished for death so much that I was starting to imagine a dark figure come forward, its black ebony wings unfurling to embrace me and take me somewhere safe. Somewhere where no pain existed. When I looked more closely at this figure it was wearing Sherlock's face. Even my own imagination can be horrible I suppose. Through this I still had feelings for him and I would give anything to see him one last time. This world is too cruel._

 _Present time..._

John POV

The urge to strangle Sherlock is maddening as he gets up from the stretcher and starts to argue with the nurses who are trying to keep him from moving.

"For fuck sake Sherlock must you be difficult just stay there until the doctor can assess you! Otherwise I will just access you myself and won't be gentle about it!" I hiss at him, my skin itching with irritation. I curl my fists into a ball and clench them tightly at my sides.

Sherlock just glares at me in response and I glare right back. But I guess the bastard has some sense for he hops back on the stretcher and gulps down some more water. I nod in satisfaction before walking away. I need to get away before I lose my self-control.

"Got the whole of Scotland Yard on the case. Unfortunately, Moriarty hasn't left an easy trail for us to find and we will need as many blokes as we can get." Lestrade says as he falls in step beside me. I just nodded, hoping that for once Scotland Yard can be the hero. I don't think I can deal with Sherlock's gloating and triumph when he solves a case before they do much longer.

Before we could say anything else the doctor came bustling down the hallway towards us. He was still a little too pale from Sherlock's threat and his eyes fearful and wide.

"Where's that um...friend of yours" the doctor stammers as he comes to halt a few feet from us. My heart does a little flip in my chest.

"Is something wrong with Molly?"

"Thankfully no she will recover but slowly she has many injuries. I thought I would let your friend know right away." Relief floods me at those words.

"His name is Sherlock Holmes and you will find him on a stretcher just down the hall" Lestrade says, thrusting his thumb behind him. Without another word the doctor bustles off to relay the news.

"I think I might as well head back to Molly's room, I need to protect the nurses and doctors from Sherlock's wrath." Lestrade chuckled.

"Good luck with that mate as for me I'm going to head back to the yard. I will ring you if I hear of anything important regarding Moriarty." I nod. I'm hardly ten feet from Molly's room when Sherlock appears. Wordlessly I step aside and he breezes past me. I watch him as he settles back into the chair and takes her hands. She is still motionless and looking disturbingly frail. I feel another emotion creeping into me and flooding my veins with its fire. Anger is a friend of mine and it is directed towards the monster who almost killed a wonderful, caring woman. As if Sherlock can feel it his words cut into the air, cold and sharp with hate.

"I swear Jim Moriarty I am going to make you pay for this. This game of yours is over" I couldn't stifle a sigh. For Sherlock's sake I hope he makes good of his word to avenge Molly. And, of course, I'll be there to be a hand to hold a gun and take down the venomous spider in its web.

 _3 hours before..._

Molly POV

 _I have barely moved from my position in the corner since Moriarty left. I couldn't tell how long I had been lying here but at some point my jumper and coat was given back to me and I made myself pull them on despite how much it hurt. I keep a grip on my bad shoulder, trying to stop the broken bones from scraping together. I wretched, some blood and spittle escaping to drip onto the floor but my stomach otherwise empty. The pain was so great and unending that it left my eyes stinging and my stomach feeling like it's trying to do a bunch of gymnastic moves. I gagged some more and licked my cracked lips with my dry tongue that felt like sandpaper. I had given up praying at this point. No one was listening and no one was going to end my pain. I had dozed off here and there and in my weird half-sleep state I thought I had heard a crash and the door opening. Sherlock appeared, taking down my tormentors and carrying me away to safety._

 _"It's alright Molly your safe." He would say and sweep my damp fly-aways from my face. His soft lips would cover mine in a tender kiss and I would feel no more pain. Just relief and joy and then it would be all ripped away from me once again. A small breath that sounded almost like a sob escaped my lips and I laid my cheek back down on the cold ground as my stomach settled down for a bit. I couldn't tell what part of my body hurt more and tears made more sticky tracks on my cheeks and hit the floor with small plinks that only I could hear._

 _The door creaked open and I didn't react. I just closed my eyes and waited. A swift kick to my stomach took all breath I had from me with a strangled gasp and my eyes pop open. I tried to curl myself up, whimpering but it was too painful to even twitch a muscle._

 _"Time to go my little mouse. I have a present to deliver to Sherlock and I wouldn't want to keep him waiting." Strong hands grabbed my arms and I was hauled upright. I screamed, feeling my shoulder way more than I did lying on the floor. Moriarty waggled his finger and clucked his tongue._

 _"None of that can't have you spoiling the surprise." The scarred man made another swift blow to my stomach and I went even more slack in his tight grip. I bit my lip, holding back the gasps and whimpers so he wouldn't punch me again. I was dragged out of the room, my body not able to support me. I was not prepared for the brightness of the outside world and I squeezed my eyes shut. Unceremoniously, the scarred man and his colleague dumped me into the seat of the cab. One climbed in and the door was shut behind him. I was pushed upright and belted in. I kept my eyes on the ground, still biting my lip and clenching my jaw. I could taste the coppery sweetness of my blood. A flavor I had been accustomed in my time being tortured by goon one and goon two._

 _We remained silent and I thanked that small little grace. I was tired of Moriarty's sadistic rants. As we drove along I kept my head down. It lolled side to side with every turn and bump. As it lolled to the right I glimpsed the bulge of something in the scarred man's pocket. It peeked out with a glint of silver. A switch blade I thought at the shape of it. An idea popped into my head. Something that would indefinitely get me killed if I made one little mistake. But then again what did I have to lose? I was ready to welcome death like an old friend and I had nothing to really leave behind. I lifted my head and closed my eyes. I took a few deep breaths from my nose, ignoring my broken body to the best of my ability. When I felt like I had clarity and some strength left I let my eyes pop open. Before I was aware of my body I had already unbuckled myself and snatched the switch blade from his pocket. It flicked open with a satisfying click but before I could plunge into Moriarty's chest a hand was around my wrist and wrenching the blade from my hand. I wasn't fast enough. The blade fell to the ground with a thud. I gave a good kick to the scarred man in the shin and he winces in pain._

 _"Bitch" he hissed, loosening his grip just enough for me to twist through. I threw myself at Moriarty and he barely even reacts. Just puts his arm up and I feel something sink into me. I looked down to see a knife sunk almost hilt deep into my bad shoulder, Moriarty's hand holding it steady. The shock of it kept my brain from telling my nerves to scream. Moriarty pulls it out and I fall to the floor. The nerves are back and they are back with a vengeance. I'm gasping, my lungs burning. My hand instinctively clutches the wound, blood seeping through it creases, warm and bright red. Moriarty just clucked his tongue, peering down at me as I bled out on the floor._

 _"Now look what you made me do my little mouse. You have spoiled my surprise." His voice is whiny but I could see the flash of anger in his black eyes. He handed the soiled blade to his henchman and he started to dutifully wipe it clean with a cloth._

 _"No matter I guess we will have to change the plans." The cab pulled off the side of the road and I can see the white flats that squish together side by side and stretch into the cloudy gray sky._

 _"Let's play a game. See if you can make it to your beloved Sherlock in time. Otherwise well you die and have failed. Sherlock and John would be mine" Moriarty said and the door is pulled open. I still couldn't move, my vision losing focus and my lungs barely taking any oxygen._

 _"Tick tock" Looking into Moriarty's eyes is like falling into an abyss._

 _You can do it Hooper. Just get to Sherlock._

 _Taking in as much breath as I can I pulled myself upright and grabbed onto the leather seat to pull myself into sitting position. This process was arduous and Moriarty just kept chanting "Tick tock" and tapping his watch. I slid across the leather seat to the opening and could feel the chill of the late autumn air. It added an ache to the jumble of painful sensations along on my body. With one last desperate breath and prayer I'm standing. I reached out to grab the lam post as my legs buckle. The cab door shuts and I heard the tires squeal off. There was people walking down the street but they only gave me a few unfriendly stares before moving on. I must look like a druggie that just got a bit pushed around. I pulled my coat closer to me and held onto the lampost until my feet felt more planted on the ground. I just have to get to Sherlock and warn him and I can finally let go and hope that maybe it wouldn't be in vain. I can see his face in my mind, the high cheekbones, the striking blue eyes with a dark spot in the right one, the unruly dark hair. I would love to see it all one last time. I don't have much hope that I would last another day but I let go of that thought just as I let go of the lampost. I stumbled down the street, looking for street signs and hoping beyond hope I'm not too late._

 _Sorry I made you guys wait a while for this update I hope you liked it._


	5. Chapter 5

**Again you guys you are f*ing awesome for favoriting, following and reviewing this it feels so good to be back writing fanfiction again. Here's Chapter Five!**

Chapter Five

John POV

The poor nurses never stood a chance against Sherlock. Whenever they came in to check on Molly's vitals he would be there, watching intently as if they plan to poison her. They also tried and failed to get him out of her room when visiting hours were over but he refused to leave her side. Which is unfortunate for me and them since he has started to smell rank from days of not bathing. As the days progressed it got harder and harder for me to keep my temper at bay. Like a child, every time I told him he needed to go home to sleep, eat, and bathe he would say no and pout. I honestly don't think I want kids after dealing with a man-child that happened to be a detective.

"I will call Mycroft on you." I finally say after another intolerable day of him moping around Molly's room as she remained unconscious. He just rolls his eyes at me and goes back to sitting at her bedside after an hour of pacing. It has been five days and still no clues or hints from Moriarty after trying to fry Sherlock alive. It has us both on edge, for obvious reasons.

"I'm serious Sherlock you need rest, you can't possibly think to face Moriarty like this."

"I can't spare a moment John I need to be here when she wakes up."

 _If she wakes up_ I thought but don't say so out loud.

"Your no use to Molly like this." I continue. I was not going to give up the fight so easily and I could tell I was starting to make cracks in the barrier Sherlock puts around himself. But he doesn't answer or even glance at me. He just stares at Molly and I watch as he tenderly brushes away a tendril of her hair from her face. It is so slow and gentle and it made my heart ache for my best friend. I never thought Sherlock would care for someone this much. And that person could very well die and I'm powerless to help. I know I won't be able to bring back the brilliant detective from the abyss of that grief if it happens.

"Alright John I will do as you ask but I only for five minutes. I'll bathe at the flat and be back in due time."

I can't stifle the sigh that escapes my lips but I nod. It is at least something and I should take what I can get. To my surprise though Sherlock places a hand on my shoulder as he makes to leave the room.

"You're a good friend Doctor Watson." He said, a smile on his face that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Sentiment." I respond, keeping my voice teasing. He just snorts and I turn to follow him out the door but he stops me. "Can you stay with her while I'm gone, please?"

"Of course" I respond and satisfied he finally departs. I plop down on the chair next to Molly's bed with a groan and turn on the telly. I'm trying to focus on some silly game show but the sound of the heart monitor beeping and the machines pumping oxygen is distracting. But I'm startled when the monitor beeps louder, the heart rhythm going more frantic than normal. Then Molly's eyes pop open and she gasps through the tube in her throat. I jump out of the chair and scream for the nurses as she continues to choke. They rush in and I just stand there dumbfounded. I know I should be pulling out my phone to call Sherlock but I can't seem to get myself to move. I just watch as Molly wakes up.

Molly POV

Something is shoved down my throat and I gag. I'm in a dimly lit room but everything is a blur. There are these shapes hovering around me as I try to use my hands to pull out whatever is in me. This must be some new torture device that the sick bastard Moriarty decided to test out on me. But I think he might actually want to kill me this time since I have no room to breathe. I want to scream and fight with whatever energy I have left. The shapes loom over me and I am able to lift my hand to reach out towards it but not far enough to defend myself. It feels too heavy and there is a dull but sharp pain in my shoulder. But then the obstruction is removed and I can breathe again. Air being sucked into my lungs has never felt more amazing. But I wish again that I wasn't breathing. I take deep breaths and blink my eyes for a few moments before I have the courage to look up and see what awaits me.

For a moment everything stayed out of focus and blurry but the shapes were now starting to look more and more like people in white coats and one that was darker in clothing.

"Molly?" The shape said to me but its like hearing underwater so I could not distinguish the voice. Now feature were coming in and I was startled not to see one of Moriarty's men staring back at me, not to mention nurses. It was none other than John Watson. My heart leaped at his familiar face. Him being here only meant one thing. That Sherlock must be here too. I look around to find him but he's not anywhere.

"Sherlock will be back he just went back to the flat to shower." I didn't realize John had approached until he was right next to my bed and laying a hand gently on my arm. But it wasn't John's arm it is wider and rough and I look up to see one of Moriarty's henchman, a horrible grin on his scarred face. I shrink back with a hoarse shriek, managing to get my arm out of his grasp. It hurt to move but I didn't care. I needed to get away from this nightmare. I thought for sure it was truly over. I kept screaming as several hands grabbed onto me, pinning me down. I feel some kind of cold fluid enter my arm and everything went blurry again and my body felt like it was made out of lead before darkness seeped into my vision.

Sherlock POV

Every second wasted is maddening. I yell at the cab driver to drive faster as we speed through the streets of London. When he finally stops at Baker Street I immediately jump out, ignoring the cabbie's protests. Mrs. Hudson opens her door when I come barreling in.

"Be a dear and pay that cabbie will you?" I shout to her as I take the stairs two at a time. I pause at the top of the stairs to also yell down: "Oh and do tell him to stay there I'll pay him extra for the ride back." Not waiting for an answer I run into John and I's flat to the loo, shedding my clothes along the way. The water is hot when I turn on the faucet but I pay it no mind as I begin to scrub everywhere with heavily scented soap. I have seen Molly pay more particular attention to me on those days when I use it. I violently scrub my curls as well before shutting off the water and grabbing the towel.

I'm in clean clothes and running out the door in less than four minutes. Thankfully the cabbie is still there and I ignore his grumbles when I climb in and bark the address of St. Bart's Hospital. I stop only a moment to give the cabbie a generous fare as I promised and make my way back into the hospital. I make it to her room and stop dead in my tracks at the doorway.

Molly's eyes are still closed but she is no longer breathing through the tube. Her eyes dart back and forth behind her eyelids and she twitches slightly every few seconds. John is in my chair, his face surprisingly ashen.

"What happened?"I demand and John startles. He turns to looks at me and his expression is obvious as ever.

"She woke up didn't she?" I ask but John is smart enough to know that it was a rhetoric question. He gets out of my seat when I approach. I sit in his vacated spot and reach to take her hand.

"I wouldn't do that." John says, distress plain in his face. I draw my hand away and I see his shoulders relax as he goes to grab another chair in the corner of the room to pull beside me. He's telling me what happened before I can even ask once he has settled. My emotions do a number of rage to despair to rage again at his words. I'm so angry I have the urge to punch him but more to punch myself for giving in and leaving. I should have been there when she woke up scared and disoriented. My heart gave a pang at the detail of her losing it when John touched her. I don't want to know what Moriarty did to make her react to touch in that way. Now the bruises and marks on her face are almost nothing, the only other thing showing is the bandages on her wrists, covering the marks of being restrained for too long against her will. It made me sick to think of it and it made me just want to touch her more. But I refrain and just watch her sleep fitfully, John as equally silent next to me.

I don't realize I have fallen asleep until I hear a rustling in my ear and a scratchy material against my cheek. I don't realize what is happening in my state of half-sleep but once it clears I bolt upright into a sitting position and regret it when the world tilts and spots of white dance in my vision. John is already awake and grabs onto me as I sway from the brief vertigo. Once I can keep myself upright and my vision is back to normal I can see Molly is awake. She is staring at me silently, her brown eyes so dull and void of their usual brightness. There is so many emotions playing on her face, the most being anguish and it pierces my heart over and over. But I can't get myself to speak or even really think of what to say. I can't certainly say it's alright since it's definitely not. I just find myself looking anywhere but her.

"I hope that this is real." A hoarse but feminine voice says. I focus my eyes back on Molly, startled.

"Well I can assure you it is real but I'm not sure if your mind would believe it." I say hesitantly. She just gives a small smile in response.

"I can prove it if you would allow me." I say and my heart begins to race. It's a daring request but I'm out of other things to say. There's plenty of hesitance and fear in her face but her mouth says "alright…"

I step slowly forward and reach ever so slowly towards her.

Molly POV

My heart is racing so fast I'm convinced Sherlock and John can hear it. It makes the wound in my shoulder complain more but it's hard to focus on pain really when he is getting nearer and nearer every second. His hand, so long fingered and pale reaches towards me. I expect him to go for my hand but Sherlock has always been full of surprises so it is coming towards my face. A flash of panic is niggling in and I flinch. His hand stops centimeters from my cheek. After a few moments he lets it connect with my skin. His own skin feels warm and inviting as he caresses my cheek. It is so unlike Sherlock and I want to cry. This definitely can't be real I'll wake up back in that pit and have to deal with that reality all over again.

"As I thought you certainly aren't real." I say and he draws his hand back, looking stunned. It's all too much.

"Can you and John leave me alone for a while please." I say and Sherlock somehow looks even more surprised, hurt even. But John just nods and takes hold of his friend's shoulder to help guide him out of the room. John is saying something to Sherlock but I could only catch the words "give it time" as the disappear around the corner. I wait in the silence, only the sound of my heartbeat on the monitor keeping my company. But I'm still here. I haven't woken up even when I pinch my arm. The reality finally sets in and it's like a damn broke. I sobbed and sobbed from relief but from also grief of having to live with the memories of being tortured and nearly killed. Even drugged up I could feel every broken part of my body as if the injury was just inflicted now. I don't remember ever stopping the crying or really ever falling asleep but when I opened my eyes again sunlight was coming in and Sherlock or John were not here.

 **Hope you guys liked this and review please when you get a chance.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again hope you all are enjoy this update I'm really shipping these two hard :)**

John POV

Another shrill wail pierced the air of the flat as Sherlock started another somber tune on his violin. I couldn't stifle a sigh as I watched the bow move slowly back and forth, his eyes continuing to look off into the distance. It's been already two days and Sherlock has not stopped playing, not to sleep or even eat. Not that he did much of that anyway but it did not fail to make me even more concerned for my best friend.

"You don't really believe that Molly wanted you to stay away?" I asked him last night as we sat by the fire, me watching some telly while he plucked at the violin strings absently. He did not answer, his blue eyes so dull and lifeless as he kept his gaze focused on anything but me. That's when I just got up with a louder harumph than needed and retired to bed. When I awoke the next morning I found him in the same position. I just shook my head and grabbed my worn jacket from the coat hanger.

"I'm going out!" I called up to him as I descended the stairs even though I didn't expect a response. For all I know he did not hear me at all. I hailed a cab and told him the address of St. Barts hospital. Now there was just me and the short drive. But it made me anxious to be without Sherlock and to be going to see Molly at that. We were never close friends, her having more of a sort of relationship with Sherlock than me. But, I didn't want her to be alone. I had no idea if she had family or a boyfriend that would come visit. I sighed for probably was the hundredth time this week and bounced my knee anxiously as the cabbie pulled on the curb adjacent to St. Barts.

Molly POV

I've never had to be in hospital for so long before. It's been so dull just laying in the bed, putting on some stupid reality TV show on the telly. The doctor had not given the ok to get off the drugs so everything was still off and I slept all the time. Mum dropped off some novels for me to read but I immediately put them down once I got a look of the shirtless men on the covers. She always had terrible taste in literature. The TV screen started to get blurry around the edges as I started to doze off again but the sound of footsteps pulled me back from my stupor. My heart practically leaped into my throat as I turned to see who it was but it was only John Watson. And he was obviously alone. I probably did not hide my disappointment well as he gave me a small smile and sat down next to my bed.

"How are you feeling?" He said after a beat of awkward silence.

"I've been better." I said with a sigh and winced at the sharp pain that radiated from my collar bone. My arm was in a sling to help prevent movement but it would definitely need to be fully fixed with surgery. _Brilliant._ As if sensing my discomfort a nurse appeared and administered another dose of drugs into my IV.

"How's Sherlock?" I managed to ask after she left and more silence befell. I didn't expect the question to be so hard to say so but my voice cracked here and there much to my humiliation. I just stared down at my hands as a blush started to creep up my face. I couldn't help but remember his gentle touch on my cheek, which felt like it happened ages ago. I was probably really just over analyzing it. He was just trying to help me work with my PTSD. Nothing more.

"He's pretty much the same a little bit more sulky than usual."

"Why?" I asked, completely confused.

"I think that is only for him to tell." He reached out for my hand but thought better of it. I appreciate that he remembered. I'm not sure if someone touching me again will trigger another episode but I wouldn't want to test it. "I'll get him to come round and see you. I think you two need some catching up to do." He smiled sadly and left, leaving me alone again to my own thoughts.

I guess I dozed off again because I woke up and my mum was beside me bed, tucking in my bed sheets and badgering the nurse. I can't remember the last time she tucked me in like this. Probably not since I was just a little girl.

"Mum stop the fussing I'm alright." I said once she noticed I was awake.

"I hardly say broken bones and bruises is alright." She huffed. "There are detectives outside the room, I have tried to stave them off for a few days but there's only so much a mother can do." She sniffed and grabbed a tissue from her purse to dab her eyes and blow her nose. I couldn't resist an eyeroll. Ever the drama queen. If only Dad were here. That sent a sharp pain through my chest and I willed it away.

Two men came forward and to my immense relief one of them I recognized as Greg Lestrade. He looked uncomfortable as he came to stand by my bedside.

"Sorry to bother you Molly while you recover but we would like to ask some questions." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I don't know how much I can help at the moment. I'm not exactly keen on relving what I just endured." I answered with a somewhat sheepish smile.

"Of course we won't take too much of your time. We just need some details on the perpetrator."

I shrug "It was Jim Moriarty, plain and simple but I doubt you will be able to find him. He didn't exactly show me as to where he held me I was knocked out and the other time in too much pain to notice anything."

"Right." Lestrade continued to look nervous.

It's then when the memories just come back despite my effort to block it all out. The fear and pain is so palpable that I'm now struggling to breath. That's when John appears from behind Lestrade. He lays his hand on my shoulder and looks me straight in the eyes.

"Deep breaths Molly. In and out." I follow his instruction, making my lungs fill with air despite the pain.

"Good, keep going and focus on my eyes. What colors do you see?" I make myself look straight at his eyes.

"They are green." I say after an exhale of breath. "Brown and a bit of blue maybe." He nods encouragingly and that's when I realized I'm breathing normal and even again.

"I think the panic attack has subsided John. Let me through." Sherlock is back and sitting down on the edge of my hospital bed. My heart swells and I feel warm all over.

"I think we will see ourselves out for now."Lestrade said with a little too much eagerness and volume. He turned on his heel, forcing his colleague to trail after him with a few protests. John turned to depart too, but not before giving me a cheeky wink. I couldn't help but grin at that but once I turned to Sherlock I felt it slide right off my face. He looked worn out, dark shadows under his eyes and a little hint of stubble starting to grow on his pale face. He stared at me intently. I don't think there has been a time he has been this close to me and his eyes boring into me like this. But before I could say anything my mum appeared again. She startled at Sherlock sitting on my bed.

"Who the hell are you?" She said, her eyes narrowing and her voice a little shrill.

"Mum calm down it's only Sherlock." She looked at him again, but this time with a knowing smile.

"Oh that detective you have told me so much about." It took so much effort not to groan outwardly. It's bad enough I have embarrassed myself countless times in front of him now we can add my bleeding mother to the equation. Instead of him getting annoyed and huffy like I thought he would he stood up and offered his hand.

"Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective how do you do?"

I would have to say it was both horrifying and hilarious at the red coloring that started to creep onto her face.

"Do just call me Jenny." She actually giggled. Bloody giggled like a schoolgirl! Dear lord I'm kind of wishing Moriarty offed me right now.

"Of course er...Jenny do you mind if I talk to your daughter privately for a while.?"

"Oh no no not at all I'll just go get myself a cup of coffee!" She looked like a bird trying to fly at how she flapped her hands vigorously. "I'll leave you two kids alone." With that she was finally gone and I could feel a little less like I wanted to shrink into the floor. But I could still feel my own blush warming my face.

"So sorry about that she can be a bit much."

Sherlock just shrugged in response and sat back down beside me. Now he was back to having his full attention on me and it sent butterflies flying at an erratic pace in my stomach.

"Have you heard anything from him?" I blurted out but I couldn't get myself to say the name again. It seemed to hold too much power as well as many other things.

He shook his dark curls "Sadly no, but I'm sure he will make his move soon enough."

"Just be careful, he told me many times on how he was going to go after you and John. I guess he started with me, thinking me getting hurt would affect you. Silly isn't it?" I looked down at my hands, still bandaged and stinging a little. I couldn't get myself to look at him after that ridiculous statement. He undoubtedly thought it revolting to hear such sentiment. I startled at the featherlight touch of his finger under my chin. He lifted it so I had no choice but to look at him.

"You are underestimating how much you mean to me Molly." His blue eyes seemed brighter, like he was letting me in. To see what truly goes on behind those irises. I'm not aware that I'm not longer breathing or that the nurse has returned to check up on me. It's just me and him. But like a spell it breaks when he pulls his hand away. I'm already in a constant state of surprise but the apparent nervousness as he fidgets next to me sends me reeling. But, blessedly John comes to the rescue by charging into the room.

"Moriarty has made contact." He says before Sherlock can even utter a word. Fear tightens its vice like grip on my heart. Sherlock immediately springs upright as John hands him his phone. I can't see what it says but from how his face darkened into a frown it couldn't be good.

"We need to get back to Baker Street. Now!" Panic evident in his voice as he ran out of the room.

"Lestrade is already on his way!" I can hear John call after him as he runs right after him. Now I'm left alone, wondering if my moment with Sherlock ever happened.


End file.
